


Keep On Moving

by bientist



Category: Phandom/The Fantastic Foursome (YouTube RPF)
Genre: Bottom!Dan, DDR, Edging, M/M, PWP, Sex Toys, Vibrators, top!phil
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-14
Updated: 2015-07-14
Packaged: 2018-04-09 06:28:43
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,673
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4337477
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bientist/pseuds/bientist
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After filming their three-legged DDR video, there is a lot of sex. And there was much rejoicing.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Keep On Moving

**Author's Note:**

> A while back, there was a fic (since deleted) written by a phandom author. The premise of this was that Dan and Phil received a bunch of sex toys in the mail, including a silver vibrator. Dan really wanted to use it, but didn’t get around to it in that fic. The author let me continue the story, even though they took the original one down, and this story works as a standalone but my intention was to pick up where that fic left off. Let the porn commence.  
> Beta'd by phansomedevil, my lifeblood and eternal soulmate.

                It’s a while before the toys come out again. Dan doesn’t really know where the time went exactly, just that it did. It’s not until he’s literally making jokes about fanfiction bondage to the camera that he takes a reality check and realizes that _god,_ does he need to get laid. But, Dan has an audience bigger than he can really wrap his head around and is therefore supposed to be at least kind of professional, so after he and Phil trip over their own three feet yet again, Dan scrambles to get back on the mat instead of kissing Phil breathless like he wants to.  

                “Phil, come on, we can do this, we can still salvage this fucking wreck of a terrible idea,” he urges, still giggling, and Phil is wheezing – from laughter or exhaustion, Dan can’t tell. Probably a bit of both.  

                “Dan,” Phil pants, “I don’t care what the song says, I just can’t keep on moving anymore, I can’t do it.”

                “Come on, we started this together, we can end it together.” Dan’s staggeringly out of breath himself— red stains his cheeks and his jumper is damp with sweat— but his eyes are glistening madly the way they do when a challenge is literally afoot. He might joke about his lackadaisically endless browsing, but he will always muster up the energy to win a challenge.

                “Dan, if we do- any more- of this, my legs will jellify, and,” Phil pauses to think, “you will need to carry me around everywhere as a potted plant.” The threat falls entirely flat; his hair is clinging string-like to his forehead and his cheeks splotch with heat.

                “Potted plants are useless and so are you,” Dan laments, hitting pause on the game. “Okay, fine, ‘Lightning Legs’ Lester, let’s take a breather.”

                Ignoring the jab, Phil sighs with relief, sinking into the couch and letting his head fall back against the cushions. “Thank god. You’re crazy with this game, it’s like you were made for it.” His head snaps up, eyes suddenly lit. That is Phil’s ‘I have a terrible joke’ face, and Dan is immediately wary. “Hey Dan.”

                “No.”

                “Dan _,_ come on, why are you so good at this game?”

                “Fuck’s sake- why?”

                “It’s because you put the ‘Dan’ in Dance Dance Revolution,” Phil giggles.

                “ _Jesus_ Christ.” Dan groans and leans back onto the couch with him, so that they’re lying side by side, shoulders touching.  “Well, I think we have plenty of demeaning and embarrassing footage, so we can un-cripple ourselves now.”

                “I’ll do it,” Phil volunteers. “You did us up, so I’ll undo us now.”

                “Oh, you’ll undo me, will you?” Dan grins.

                “You pervert, stop corrupting our viewers,” Phil admonishes. “ Speaking of, turn the camera off, the last thing we need is to spawn more fanfiction.”

                “I’m telling you Phil, some of it is _art.”_

                “Okay,” Phil asserts, ignoring Dan. His focus turns to the tangled mess binding them together, and he scrabbles at it trying to find the edge of the tape. Of course it all blends seamlessly into itself, an infinite clusterfuck.

                “Bloody hell, Dan, why did you give us so _much_ tape? We were trying to keep our legs together, not keep them from falling off our bodies.”

                “Just use your teeth, it’s what I did.”

                “This is _inches_ thick, Dan, I’m going to need more than- oh, there’s the edge.” Phil scratches at it, but it remains stubbornly stuck. “My nails are too short,” Phil protests, and then he remembers. “Wait, okay, I think I can get it with my teeth though.”

                “Go for it, just don’t bite me, you weirdo.”

                Phil bends so that his nose nuzzles Dan’s knee, and his teeth close on the small tab of tape that his fingernails have managed to get loose. His hair brushes Dan’s thigh as his head pulls back with the tape, and the combination of exhilaration from DDR with sudden contact makes Dan’s previously ignored arousal come rushing back. Phil works diligently loosening the tape, and all the while his hair, nose, cheek, and breath meet Dan’s knee and thigh. Dan‘s imagination helpfully starts to fill in all the ways this situation could play out: Phil with his mouth on Dan’s cock, Phil grinding on him with both their legs still tied together so all Dan could feel would be the slow, constrained roll of Phil’s hips, Phil kissing Dan until their lips were raw with feeling, his hand slipping underneath Dan’s boxers to-

                Dan groans involuntarily, and Phil looks up from his work to see Dan straining against his jeans. His eyebrows rise, but he looks otherwise unsurprised, a smirk suddenly playing at his lips. “Didn’t know you had a fetish for packing tape.”

                “Oh, fuck off.”

                Phil laughs. “You can’t expect me to just ignore that, it’s hilarious.”

                “I’m going to tape your mouth shut, you sicko.”

                “Kinky,” Phil says, through the tape he now has clamped in his teeth.  He’s pulled the tape back enough so that his fingers can take over, and his hands work deftly unwinding the rest of the roll. When he finishes, he tosses the sticky ball unceremoniously aside. “There, my work here is done,” he declares, standing.

                “Like hell it is,” Dan scoffs, even as he steps closer to Phil to kiss him. 

                “What has gotten into you today?” Phil’s tone is demanding, but he works to suppress a smile.

                “Nothing yet,” Dan giggles.

                Phil pushes him as he walks toward his bedroom. “Christ, you’re impatient,” he complains, even as he takes off his shirt before he even reaches the door.

                Dan quirks an eyebrow as he follows him. “Oh come on, Phil, first the socks, now the shirt? Our floor is not a laundry bin.”

                “Are you seriously worrying about that?” Phil pauses where he stands to undo his fly and steps, shockingly without much difficulty, out of his skinny jeans. “There, fixed. Now all my clothes are on the floor _except_ for my socks. Plot twist.”

                “You ruin everything,” Dan says emphatically, but he strips anyway, tossing his clothes in the laundry bin pointedly. He struggles with his straightjacket skinny jeans, whapping them against the wall when he finally tugs them off. “Stop laughing, you twit, the same thing happens to you on a regular basis.”

                Still cackling, Phil rummages through a bag in his closet, producing a bottle of massage oil. He drizzles a little on his fingers before rubbing his hands together and wiggling his fingers threateningly. “I’ve come for your chickens, give them to me or terrible things will happen to your planet.”

                “Oh my god, is this foreplay to you?” Dan laughs, doubling over when Phil tackles him to the mattress and aggressively pecks his cheek with kisses. After a minute, the kisses start to slow, and Dan’s laughter dies in his throat as Phil’s mouth drags down to his neck and bites where he knows Dan’s breath will punch out of him in a harsh moan.  

                “Oh, _shit_ ,” Dan groans as Phil’s mouth works hotly down his neck. Every brush of Phil’s lips or graze of his teeth quickly renders Dan hard-pressed for coherent thought and his cock hard against his stomach. When Dan’s on the verge of begging, Phil stops.

                “Turn over.”

                “Fuck yes,” Dan sighs. He lies on his stomach and feels Phil straddle the backs of his thighs. He hears a cap pop open and then snap shut, and then Phil’s hands come to rest on Dan’s shoulders. His fingers start to massage the muscle there, hands working inward to work at his neck and his spine. Dan groans.

                “Okay, Phil, not that this doesn’t feel amazing, but- _oh_ \- I was really hoping that you would fuck me, like, right about now.”

                Phil hums in acknowledgment, but his hands stay maddeningly above his ass, though they do slide down to massage his lower back. Dan realizes that Phil’s going to do as he likes, and surrenders, relaxing entirely. His eyes drift closed, letting himself just enjoy Phil touching him, and Phil seems to approve because his hands massage more deeply into Dan’s muscles, earning an appreciative groan. Dan is boneless and floating when he feels Phil’s hands drift lower still, onto the slope of his hips.

                “Okay, pick one: either get me off or keep doing what you’re doing,” Dan complains. “I’ve suffered too many blue balls during our Skype chats years ago to merit this.”

                Phil giggles. “You’re acting like you’re the only one who had to do that.” His fingers run over Dan’s hips, reaching underneath slightly to sweep across the V of his pelvis. Dan gasps, and his spine arcs concave to give Phil better access.

                “You’ve picked, then,” Dan confirms, feeling Phil’s thumb trail just underneath the band of his boxers, followed by his hand dipping in to _just barely_ graze the head of his cock with the tip of his finger. “You fucking tease,” he groans when the hand returns to grip his hip tightly.

                Phil’s response comes in the form of his mouth suddenly at the base of Dan’s neck, lips pressing softly and slowly down his spine. His hands slide up Dan’s sides to his chest, his front pressing against Dan’s back as he does, and he rubs the pads of his thumbs experimentally across Dan’s nipples.

                “Oh, _fucking_ _hell_ ,Phil, _shit_.” Phil’s touches are gentle, teasing the tips until they harden into stiff peaks, and Dan’s nerves fire more urgently with every swipe of Phil’s fingers. Every touch is hardwired straight to his cock, and when Phil gives him a gentle pinch at both nipples, he cries out with the sheer intensity of how fucking good it feels.

                “Didn’t know you were so sensitive here,” Phil murmurs into his shoulder, still pressing kisses into his back. “I’ll use my mouth next time.”

                “Phil,” Dan gets out, going a little cross eyed when Phil starts to flick his thumbs harder against his chest. “Phil, I need you to touch me, _please_ , please touch me.” He nearly sobs when Phil drops one hand to balance himself above Dan, and the other to finally grip his cock. Phil strokes him firmly, thumb repeatedly brushing over the sensitive head, and precome pearls at his tip as Dan starts to shake.

                “I’m gonna come, I’m gonna-”

                Phil stops immediately at the words, and his fingers close around the base of Dan’s cock, denying him. Dan’s breath comes in short bursts, and he glares sidelong at Phil.

                “Why the hell did you stop?”

                Phil grins. “I had another idea. Thought it would be fun if we tried out the vibrator we got in the mail a while back.”

                Dan’s mouth goes dry. “Oh.”

                “Sound good?”

                “Yeah. Yes. Fuck yes.”

                Phil laughs at his enthusiasm, and jumps off the bed to retrieve the toy and a bottle of lube, which have been innocently residing in the nightstand drawer. It’s about five inches long and flared at the base, with an accompanying wireless remote controlling the vibration level. Dan inhales sharply when he sees it.

                “Still want this?” Dan nods. “Okay. Lie down. I’m going to finger you first.”

                Dan complies, anticipation making his skin tingle as he listens to Phil coat his fingers in lube and then feels a bracing hand on his hip. Phil’s other hand circles a finger around Dan’s rim, and Dan tenses.  

                “Relax, love,” Phil murmurs, pressing kisses to Dan’s shoulders.

                Dan takes a steadying breath and nods, letting his body go pliant to Phil’s touch. He feels a finger breach him, a familiar sensation. Dan breathes easier. The vibrator is new but it’s not a completely foreign concept. Dan is very on board with Things That Feel Good In His Ass. Phil’s finger strokes his walls in a manner that’s almost soothing, and literally only Phil could make Dan feel this kind of combination of totally at ease and ridiculously turned on.

                The second finger is a bit of a stretch, but any pain is instantly replaced by a hard jolt of pleasure when Phil strokes just _there_ inside of Dan, who bucks his hips helplessly as he cries out. Dan’s cock throbs almost painfully with how much he’s being teased- first Phil edging him with his hand, and now Phil’s fingers expertly working him while slowly kissing his neck from behind. It’s a bit more than Dan’s wired nerves can process; Phil increases his speed slightly, biting into his shoulder, relentlessly and wordlessly demanding that Dan scream for him.

                “ _Shit_ , _shit_ Phil fuck please just do it,” Dan sobs, and Phil appears not to hear him; instead, he curls his fingers harder, repeating the motion against Dan’s prostate until Dan screams again, muffled into the pillow.

                When he begs Phil this time, his voice is more ragged, edged with desperation. “Phil, just. Please.”

                Phil nods, and kisses Dan’s shoulder gently. He picks up the vibrator and after coating it in lube, nudges the tip of it at Dan’s entrance.

                “I’m good, I’m good, I’m _so_  good Phil please.” Dan isn’t sure how much more he can actually take of this before he literally dies.

                “Okay, okay.” Phil’s own voice has lowered and gone rough with arousal. He presses the toy slowly into Dan, and when the flared base rests directly on Dan’s hole, he lets it remain there for a minute before he turns it on to the first setting.

                It’s- intense. Even on the lowest setting, it’s the most stimulation Dan’s ever felt on his prostate, and it’s directly there, vibrating relentlessly against Dan’s most sensitive spot and Dan’s making noises he’s never made before in his life. The magnified pleasure takes him completely under, makes him writhe on the mattress and white-knuckle the sheets, and Dan can’t tell if he’s babbling or sobbing or just making incoherent sounds or maybe a mixture of the three.  Phil watches, slack-jawed, as Dan completely loses himself to pleasure, and begs over and over again for _Phil_ and _please_ and _more, fuck it’s so good_ and-

                “No, no no no,” Dan gasps. Phil doesn’t think twice; he immediately turns the vibrator off, and Dan seems to deflate as he does. “Phil, I don’t- I don’t want to come with that, I want- I want you, please.”

                Dan’s cock is leaking all over his stomach, and he’s scraped raw, at the end of his line. He can’t take any more teasing. He just wants Phil- no toys, no more games, just Phil.

                Phil complies, eyes simultaneously darkening with lust while they cloud over with affection. He gradually pulls the vibrator out of Dan’s hole, and slicks on a condom and lube. “Turn over,” he says gently, and Dan rolls onto his back, spreading his legs so Phil can position himself and slide in slowly. When Phil’s cock brushes over Dan’s prostate, he only gets a small shiver of pleasure, but when he pulls out and thrusts- _hard_ \- into Dan, Dan whines and cants his hips upward.

                “Phil,” Dan starts, but Phil slams his hips forward again, mercilessly driving into him over and over again, and not twenty seconds in, Dan is shouting:

                “Phil _Phil_ oh _god_ Phil I’m gonna come, fuck, _fuck_ ,” and Dan comes, gripping the bedpost like it’s a lifeline and tensing uncontrollably as pleasure wracks his body in spasms, and Phil fucks him through it, and Dan is pretty much completely wrecked.

                Phil comes minutes later, burying his face in Dan’s shoulder with a muffled shout as he bows his spine forward.

Exactly thirty three seconds pass before Phil breaks the silence.

                “Holy. Holy fuck.”

                “That about sums it up, yeah,” Dan agrees.

                “Right.” Phil pauses for a minute, and then suddenly dissolves into giggles.

                “What? What’s so funny?” Dan prods. “Fuck’s sake, what could you possibly be thinking about? How do you have any rational brain space left?”

                “No, it’s just,” Phil cackles. “I finally found a dance I’m good at.”

                “Oh god. What’s that?”

                “The no pants dance.”

                “ _PHIL.”_

               

 

               

 

 


End file.
